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Authors: Jane Harvey-Berrick

Roustabout (The Traveling #3) (26 page)

BOOK: Roustabout (The Traveling #3)
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“I’m your mother: I always have your best interests at heart.”

I sighed.

“I know you do and I appreciate it, but I’m old enough to make my own choices.”

“Are you though, Tera? You’ve led such a sheltered life.”

“Really?” I said briskly. “You think maybe the last year and a half hasn’t opened my eyes to one or two things?”

“There’s no need to be vulgar.”

“I wasn’t: I was being honest.”

She took a sip of her champagne and I knew she was just refueling for her next angle of attack.

“I dropped by your apartment this morning,” she said, smiling up at me, her eyes glittering.

I cringed internally, but kept my expression impassive.

“Oh, yes?”

“Imagine my surprise when I found a strange man asleep in your bed.”

Oh no.
I took a much needed drink of water.

“He was tired?” I said lamely.

Her smile widened.

“Yes, he did look like he’d had a difficult few days.”

Delicately put, Mother
.

“Is he a friend of yours?”

I raised my eyebrows. “No, it’s the new crime wave: naked men breaking into apartments to criminally rumple your sheets.”

“Don’t be facetious, dear. I was only asking if you had a new . . . friend.”

I smirked at her. “Yes, I have a new friend.”

“Such a lovely accent. Tennessee, he said.”

My smile fell.
Oh God! They’d had a conversation?

“Originally.”

“Is that where you met, in Tennessee?”

“No.”

She seared me with a look. “Where did you meet him?”

I inclined my head to one side.

“Why are you so interested?”

“Darling! You’re my daughter—I’m interested in everything you do. When I find a man in your bed in the middle of the day . . .”

“Hardly the middle of the day!”

“ . . . I can only assume that you’re a little more than friends.”

“We are,” I said, my cheeks coloring.

“And when were you going to introduce him to your family?”

Try, never.

“Or maybe he’s just a passing interest. I would understand,” she said, dropping her voice conversationally.

Well played, Mother!
A body blow followed by an uppercut.

“I don’t know what we are yet,” I said, peering thoughtfully at my water. “It’s very new.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Tera Chastain Hawkins! Are you telling me that you just met this person and you’re already sleeping with him? You were
not
raised like that!”

“Oh, for goodness sake! It’s the twenty-first century,” I clipped out, stung. “But no, I didn’t say I just met him. In fact I met him in the spring. At my brother’s.”

Twin red spots of anger appeared on her cheeks.

“You do
not
have a brother!” she snapped.

“I have two half-brothers, Mom.” I spoke as kindly as I could, knowing how much the proof of my father’s infidelities hurt her.

She drew a breath.

“So this . . . this
Tucker
person works at the circus,” she sneered.

“He’s a stunt rider, yes.”

She sat upright, her nostrils flaring.

“What on earth could you see in someone like that?”

Her voice was tight with dismay, but I sensed that her question was real, too. And I wondered if she’d asked my father the same thing when she’d found about his relationship with Kes’s mother.

What could I say to her? How could I answer so she’d understand when I barely understood myself?

He makes me laugh. I enjoy his company.
And the other inconvenient truth:
He’s hotter than hell in the summer.

He was beautiful, charming, funny and thoughtful. He didn’t need to be the center of attention, even though attention usually sought him out.

But when we were alone together, I was starting to crave that brief, unguarded moment when he lost himself inside me, the clown’s mask gone for once.

There was no way my parents would accept him; no way they’d ever think Tucker was
one of us
—and truthfully, he was a lone wolf, like a wild creature, did and said what he wanted without a filter.

“I enjoy his company,” I said weakly.

My voice trailed off. I couldn’t explain, couldn’t tell her
why
. Instead of words or explanations, I had memories. Maybe it was the possessive way he settled himself between my thighs, unembarrassed, adjusting the angle of my hips to suit himself, his strong, powerful body pressing over me, pushing into me, his rough hands grazing my flushed and heated flesh.

I didn’t want soft hands, manicured nails. I wanted a man’s hands, roughened from labor. I wanted Tucker’s hands sliding over my skin.

“Well, I hope for
your
sake that this is just a passing fancy,” said my mother, interrupting my increasingly carnal thoughts.

I glanced up sharply.

“As I said, I don’t know what it is yet.”

“Never mind,” she said, patting my hand. “If you don’t want Josh Hartington to take you to the fundraiser, we can find someone else suitable.”

“I
have
a date,” I lied. “Tucker is taking me.”

She laughed out loud.

“Don’t be ridiculous, darling. Do you really think a man like that would be comfortable wining and dining with the finest families in California? If you like him, as you say you do, it would be selfish to embarrass him like that.”

I had no words. None. Was she right? Horribly wrong? My thoughts were too confused to tell.

“Besides,” she sniffed, “he’s barely housebroken.”

“This conversation is over,” I said, throwing down my napkin and walking out of the restaurant.

I flagged down a taxi and jumped in, ignoring the driver’s grumpy tone when he bitched about how bad the traffic was in Mission Bay.

I tried to call Tucker, but his phone was switched off.

When I reached the apartment, it was silent and empty. The coffee cups had been washed up and the bed remade. For a moment I thought Tucker had left, but I felt my lungs relax when I saw his backpack in the corner, his red helmet perched on top.

He’ll be back.

I settled down to wait, drowning in a box of cookies and a gallon of ice cream, a tried and tested solution to a bad day.

 

Tucker

After Mrs. Hawkins cut me off at the knees with her sharp tongue, I sat at the kitchen table shell-shocked. In her own way, she was just as ruthless as her husband. How the hell they managed to raise someone as sweet as Tera was beyond me.

Once I got tired of feeling rattled, I cleaned up and called Tera’s cell. She didn’t answer so I guessed she was busy at work.

When my second call was missed, as well, I began to feel uneasy.

Maybe this was a conversation that needed to happen in person.

It was easy to find her name on the internet, and not much harder to find where she worked. I frowned, wondering how safe that was for a Senator’s daughter.

It took me less than 40 minutes to walk to her office building. I hesitated, staring up at the sleek tower of glass and chrome.

You don’t belong here
.

I caught sight of myself in the plate glass window and shuddered. Wrinkled shirt, ripped jeans, face marked, arm in a sling—I looked like hell.

I pulled out my phone to call Tera, but she still didn’t answer. Then remembering that I owned a pair of balls, I walked into the building.

I flashed my best smile at the receptionist.

“Hi, I’m here to see Tera Hawkins.”

“Oh! Was she expecting you?”

“No, I thought I’d surprise her.”

The receptionist’s lips quivered as if she was holding back a smile. “It seems to be a day for that.”

“Excuse me, ma’am?”

“You just missed her. I’m sorry. Her mom came to take her to lunch, as a surprise.”

Damn! Her mom had gotten to her first!

“Can I take a message?”

I smiled briefly and shook my head, then wandered back out into the busy street. My hand twitched, wanting to call her again, but I didn’t. Instead I headed further into the city until I found a sports bar, the kind of chill place I could relax. Somewhere I could think.

Tera’s mom had aimed her words straight, the poison tip of the arrow hitting true. She’d pointed out every reason why a guy like me didn’t fit into her daughter’s life. But somehow, in some crazy way, we did work.

And despite all the times I’d tried to push Tera away, she kept coming back. She’d crashed through all my barriers and forced me to care about her. It was scary as fuck, but I couldn’t ignore it any longer.

And maybe it wasn’t all bad either.

She was less serious around me, we had fun, but I was different, too. People change. They grow up. Maybe I wasn’t good enough for Tera, but I was going to try to be the best man that I could. It had started with Scotty and Renee, but for Tera, I’d try harder.

I couldn’t give her the life fit for a Senator’s daughter, and maybe I was kidding myself that she’d want a guy like me. But Tera didn’t look down on the carnies; she never had. Maybe there was a chance?

I’d been judged and labelled by people my whole life: clown, poor kid, loser, carnie. But why did I allow them to reduce me to a single label? That was down to me. If I wanted to be with a woman like Tera, I’d have to be the man worth having her. Financially, materially, I had next to nothing to offer. But with Kes back in the game, the stunt riding was taking off again. Just before I left for Tennessee, we’d gotten the promise of a big booking in LA over Thanksgiving. Those gigs made decent money.

On the other hand, it was a risky life. I could pop my shoulder out again or break a leg and be out of the game for months, even permanently.

I had no education, although I might just about make it as a mechanic if I got certificated. Maybe a carpenter. It was a thought. But hardly enough to keep a woman like Tera. And fuck, I’d miss the carnival.

I sighed and rubbed my eyes.

Wanting to be with Tera was the dumbest, most senseless, ridiculously reckless act possible for a man like me—and I jumped stunt bikes for a living.

Tucker

My phone had died again. Piece of shit couldn’t seem to hold a charge longer than half a day. It was time I replaced it. What a joke—it would be months before I could afford that.

I wandered through Haight-Ashbury and found a hotdog vendor in Golden Gate Park. The leftover money from selling the Duke needed to stretch a long way, so fancy meals were out.

I didn’t like thinking about Daisy—damn, she was beautiful. I wondered when I’d be able to ride something as amazing again. My thoughts dived to the gutter and the image of Tera’s knockout body riding mine was a little too triple X for being in public during daylight hours. I forced my thoughts away and spent the afternoon being a tourist. That alone was a novelty—despite the many miles I’d traveled with the carnival, I’d always been working. Hard work and long hours.

I missed it.

When I figured it was late enough that Tera might be home from work, I walked back to her apartment.

I used the code to buzz myself into the main entrance, but before I could get a key into Tera’s lock, the door flung open.

“Where have you been? I’ve been waiting for hours!”

She looked like a disheveled librarian, all tight skirt and classy shirt, her hair coming loose from some fancy hairdo.

“Whoa! Slow down. I thought you were at work?”

Tera huffed and rolled her eyes.

“Yes, but then my mother told me that you and she had met. Oh my God! Were you really naked in bed?”

I grinned at her. “Yep. Guilty as charged.”

Then I leaned forward and whispered into her hair.

“And you know what, sugar? It’s a good thing I had the sheet over me, because I was dreaming about you.”

She laughed and groaned at the same time. “What did she say to you? Was she awful?”

I pulled her into my chest with my good arm and kissed her lightly on the lips. They were cold and tasted sweet.

“Can a man get a drink first? I’m dying on my feet here.”

She frowned but strode into the kitchen.

“Beer or water?”

“Beer sounds great.”

I slumped onto the couch, rubbing my sore shoulder. It ached constantly—I was so over it.

Tera appeared with two bottles of beer and handed one to me.

“So, what did she say?”

“Nothing to stress about, sugar.”

She glared at me while I took a long drink, closing my eyes and enjoying the cool slide of artisan beer.

“Well?”

“It was nothin’.”

“Tucker! Sometimes you’re so laidback you’re practically horizontal. Just tell me what she said!”

“Well, she complimented me on being such a fine-looking man, and was happy to hear that her beautiful daughter had finally gotten a good lay.”

Tera’s mouth dropped open and then she punched me in the arm.

“This is serious!”

“Okay, okay! No need to get violent on my ass!”

“Tucker! I’ve been waiting here for over four hours! I’ve eaten a whole packet of triple chocolate cookies and two pints of ice cream.”

That explained the cold, sweet lips.

“To be fair, TC, I did try and find you at your office, but you’d already left with the Wicked Witch.”

BOOK: Roustabout (The Traveling #3)
7.78Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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